Eye of the sandstorm
by Fiorn
Summary: Trying to find Gaara. Please bear with the flashbacks, they're just there to add backstory. ReaderxGaara, slight oocness, slight fluffiness, you have been warned! Timeline before chuunin.
1. the beginning

'Kay. First story ever, please don't kill me if I make a mistake (meep). If somebody's already done this, sorry, I had a dream that went a lot like this and got it from there.

Gaara and the rest do not belong to me (If they did, Gaara would be dressed in a panda suit all the time. Mweheheheh) Masashi Kishimoto owns them instead. This is written in first person, reader o' vision, for all the fan s and fan boys out there.

(Argh, I can't think of a title)

You stumble through the storm, coated in sand. You're only three dunes away from Suna, yet all ready the sandstorm has blocked all sight of the village you came to call home. After falling for the seventh time in a row, you wearily get up on your feet again. Realising that you're not going anywhere like this, you ignore common sense and concentrate on one step at a time, away from the village and into the unforgiving desert.

As you walk- or rather, shuffle- you remember a time when your foster family had taken you to the beach. _You were amazed at the sheer amount of water. You had bet your 'brother', who had a reputation for always being thirsty, that he couldn't drink it all. He ran down to the sea, and bent down. Moments later he was gagging on the beach. You rushed to his side, anxious and confused when his parents started laughing. You couldn't understand why they were laughing, but out of curiosity you decided to see why your foster brother had reacted that way. You waded in and took a gulp, only to spit it straight out again and scrape your tongue with your fingers to try and get rid of the taste. Your fingers, of course, were salty as well and you gagged. After they'd laughed so hard that tears came to their eyes, your foster parents finally came to your aid with something else to clear the taste. You looked across the beach, embarrassed, to see if anyone had watched your antics. A boy, about your age, who looked like a red-haired panda, stood next to a boy and a . They were together, but it seemed as though the panda-boy was alone, even though the way their body language didn't indicate it. You got the sense that they were pretending to be a happy family; a feeling that only grew stronger when the turned around and greeted somebody you had thought was their father. "Ohayo, sensei." You took a step towards them, about to introduce yourself, but your idiotic brother tackled you from behind. By the time you looked up from fighting your brother off, they had gone._

You wake up from your memory, to find yourself lying flat on your face. When did you fall? It didn't matter anymore; you had completely lost all track of time. You picked yourself up and began walking again, before you got buried in sand. You couldn't even tell which direction you were going in- you might be heading back to the village, for all you knew. Years, or maybe minutes later, your thoughts turned to Gaara again, and memories.


	2. flashbacks within flashbacks oh my!

_You walked in the pale winter sun, not knowing where you were, not caring either. A slight breeze chilled your face, still sensitive and slightly sore from the tears earlier. Your eyes, over bright, were haunted, your clothes torn, the badge that had been a gift for your birthday from your foster family clung desperately onto the fabric. You had run for miles, and then walked for many more, until the blistering heat of the desert has dulled to the warmth of the scrubland. Exhausted, you finally collapsed by a thorny bush and fell instantly into a deep, dreamless sleep._

_A little while later, you woke up. You prepared yourself in case a certain annoying brother tackled you, but after a few moments, realised where you were. Another few moments and you realised why you were there. A fresh flow of tears streamed down your face, as you tried to come to terms with what had occurred, not a few hours ago._

_Laughing, your 'mother' had laid breakfast on the table and called for you to come downstairs. The tempting smell of pancakes drifted up to your nose, but you decided to wait a little to wake up more and let your breakfast cool down. A few moments later, you heard a scream rip through the house. It came from outside, so you leant out your window and looked to the street. Two shapes of sands were suspended in mid-air. You idly wondered why there were screams until the shapes shrank suddenly, and blood spattered everywhere, including on the face a boy with blood red hair. You wondered why he seemed so familiar, but became preoccupied with finding out who the dead were. You gasped as you recognised the clothes of you foster father and brother, soaked in blood. You didn't notice when the boy turned his gaze to you. Your foster mother, noticing the danger to you, ran out and fell on her knees in front of the boy. "Please, don't hurt her! I'll do anything, just don't hurt her!" You jumped out the window, and your foster mother turned to you, her arm outstretched and palm facing towards you in a stop motion. "Run!" Your mother screamed. You started forward, but sand covered her in an instant. You kept running, but before you reached her, the sand tightened and everything is covered in her blood. You looked up at the boy. The last of your foster mother's chakra curled up around your legs and forced you to run, far away._

_The boy, alone, had reached out his hand to where the girl had been. His fist clenched and he looked down at the corpse. Kicking it, he muttered to himself. Turning back the way he had came, he walked back to his hiding place. The other villagers in the street watched with horror, but he didn't notice them. After a while, a neighbour of the family shattered by the Shukaku reverentially placed the bodies in a graveyard, and called the mortuary._

_Back in the silent scrub again, you watched the skies change as slowly as a flower opening, with the same beauty and care. No matter what happened, the clouds would keep drifting, the sky would gradually darken and stars begin to shine. You rolled onto your front, and studied the ground. A beetle scuttled past, its shiny black armour gave the appearance of being indestructible. Thirty seconds later, you found out the truth as a bird that hadn't noticed you swooped down and broke the shell in an instant. The bird's harsh caw split the silence, and the other crows joined in. They all flew away, coarsely shrieking, and soft footsteps warned you a second before a pair of feet in sandals stopped in front of your nose. You didn't want to look up, so you waited until whoever it was either sat down or spoke. They did neither, and you kept silent, studying their feet. They smelt slightly of cinnamon, you notice, in a sick kind of tribute to that morning's uneaten spicy pancakes. There was a crack in one of the toenails, which suggested that the owner was either a boy or a girl who didn't care for her body. The latter wasn't very common, so you supposed it might be a boy. The skin was rough on the bottom of the feet and smooth on the top, a sort of milky white colour. A small cut on the side stained the surrounding skin with a crust of old blood, in stark contrast with the rest of it. The sandals were black, and scuffed around the edges. The areas which weren't scuffed were high quality black leather, and the symbol of the kazekage family was on the inner side of the ankles, although it had a slash through it, as though somebody had cut through it with a knife. The feet were small, so you figured that it must be the youngest of the three siblings, the infamous Sabaku no Gaara. The only one with the ability to control sand, you realised with shock. The sand that had killed the ones you loved._

_Idly, you waited for him to crush you with sand, twisting a dead piece of grass on the ground before you. You pondered on what it would be like to die, whether it stopped hurting, and whether you'd meet your families again, although you didn't know much of your blood relations except for the smell of spices, and a line of a lullaby sang to you, the moonlight shining through the curtains. The feet still didn't move. An hour or so passed in awkward silence, and the birds flew back to their perches. One mistook you for a rock, and landed on your back, staring at the boy suspiciously. It started pecking at you, so you rolled over, frightening it. It frantically escaped into the nearest tree, and cawed to its kin. You suspected it was the same crow that had killed the beetle; the same mischievous gleam was in its eye. Your eyes closed, because you knew that if you left them open you'd have to look into the eyes of the boy, and you had no desire to do that. A small noise behind you indicated that the boy, Gaara, had sat down. You turned onto your side, moved into a semi-curled position that you generally found more comfortable, and fell asleep. You didn't know why, but you felt completely safe. You thought it was because you had accepted death if it came, but your subconscious told you that you felt safe for another reason. You ignored it, and your last thoughts before sleep were 'how can I possibly feel safe because I trust him? He just murdered my family!' You slipped back into the warm embrace of sleep, and the cold terror of nightmares._

_Gaara watched you, no emotion showing on his face, as tears coursed down your cheeks and you bit your lips till they bled, curling up tighter until your knees reached your chin. He was puzzled; he hadn't inflicted any pain on you. He remembered a conversation he'd once had with Yashamaru about dreams, and the conversation had, of course, turned to nightmares. "I guess that because I can't have nightmares when I sleep, my life is a nightmare" Gaara had said, smiling faintly, his eyes full of sadness. He supposed that was what the strange girl was having. You woke up with a gasp, looked around frantically for a moment, reassured yourself of your surroundings, and relaxed. Right up until you turned and looked straight into Gaara's eyes._


	3. cliche much?

You can't see. The sand took care of that long ago. You can barely breathe through clogged lungs, and what little air you can get tastes of blood. The wind seems to taunt you, whipping hair into your face. Every fresh howl brings more stinging sand, more pain. Despite the agony, you grit your teeth and keep shambling on. Tears fall down your sore face, exactly like when-

_You didn't scream; you were too scared for that. Gaara stared at your eyes. Unable to move, you just looked into his. They were almost unbearably sad, shot through with immense pain, loneliness and a hatred so intense you almost cried out. A -red tattoo adorned his forehead, but dried around it revealed it to be a scar. You wondered who hurt him, and you were shocked to find that you sympathised with him, and wanted to comfort him. The wound looked to be about a day old, as it still looked sore. The two of you sat there for quite a while, until Gaara spoke. "Don't run away." "Where to?" you said; and started laughing, hysterics that had nothing to do with happiness, and for the rest of that day you just lost control, laughing and laughing until you were crying and your lungs were burning and you couldn't move, you were so weak from the lack of oxygen. The crows flew away, jagged black shapes in the bleak and desolate landscape. Gaara just watched, confused. After a long time, you finally managed to get up on your feet. He stood up and started forward, obviously ready to stop you getting away. You considered running and starting a new life somewhere else, maybe Konoha would accept you. But you'd just be running forever. A coward. You briefly considered it, mentally living all the possibilities. Remaining a ninja would be out of the question, so what else was there? Being a cook? A nurse? Settling down and becoming a housewife? You were quite taken with the idea of being the hidden power in Konoha, lying low until a war came, then rising like the angel of death and laying waste to the armies that dared to march against Konoha, dying in a blaze of sacrificial glory, to be forever held in memory. It was very tempting. But you had no desire to run. You looked Gaara straight in the eyes, and, making your final decision, stepped forward. "Hey, Gaara. Nice to meet you." There was confusion in his eyes, but after a few minutes, he replied. "What's your name?" "Uhm… I'm…" You thought for a little while. "…Ivory… Yes… I'm Ivory." You said it thoughtfully, tasting the new, unfamiliar name in your mouth. Gaara looked at you, calculating. After a while he started walking away without a word. You didn't know why, but you started running after him until you caught up. The two of you walked back to Suna, silence saying more than a million words ever could. The clouds drifted out and left the sky bare. A blank sheet. A fresh, new start._

You fall to your knees, wracked with misery. Oh gods, where on earth could Gaara be? Why were you even out on this suicidal mission? The salt in your tears burns your face, and you get up again, taking it one step at a time.

"_You sure about this?" Another boy, about a year older than you with fluffy dark brown hair looked down at you. His sister, stared at you, as if unsure whether you really existed. You nod, and they sneaked you around the back of the house to the kitchens. A big, comfortable-looking woman opened the door. "You kids? Not again!" She smiled, ruffled Kankurou's hair, hugged Temari and stopped when she came to you. "What's this?" She said, picking you up. "Gaara brought her back from the desert. Says her name's Ivory. Ooh, are those cookies?" He made a beeline for a fresh batch of cookies and muffins. The woman looked at me, and __you looked back at her. She reminded you of someone in your distant past, but you couldn't remember. Her eyes widened as if in shock, but she was distracted by Kankurou stealing food. "No! Kankurou, those are NOT for you!" She ran over and grabbed him, swung him away. "Aww! Wanna cookie!" She carried him up to bed, you and Temari followed. Temari went to sleep without a fuss. The woman and you were left alone in the corridor. "So, little one, what's the name again?" "Ivory." "You know, you remind me of someone I used to know very well. She had a different name, though. Ah well, It's useless to frighten you with the ghosts of the past, let's get you comfy." She picked out a room for you, you supposed that it was pretty small by palace standards, but it felt huge to you. It was decorated in white and dark red, with a simple table by your pristine bed. A white pottery vase with a single deep red carnation stood on it, by a glass pitcher of water and a glass. Two doors were set in one wall, and as you explored, one led to a bathroom with a shower, toilet and other things, the other door led to an empty walk-in wardrobe with a gigantic mirror at the opposite side. The woman disappeared, and came back with some clean white, black and dark red clothes. You got into a set of black pyjamas, and settled down to sleep. She opened the door, and as she was about to leave, turned back. "By the way, the name's Obsidian." You thought about the name, how strange it was that she was called the opposite to you. And you realised where you remembered her. Sister… you turned over, and fell asleep with a smile on your face._


End file.
